


Anchors and Other Weights

by nofluxgiven, RedTeamShark, Sagittae, TwinVax



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, bad decision making based on trauma, beau the disaster lesbian features prominently, made better by help from one's friends, this is a vague 'molly lives' au mostly because we started this round robin before ep 26, wizard espionage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofluxgiven/pseuds/nofluxgiven, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagittae/pseuds/Sagittae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinVax/pseuds/TwinVax
Summary: “This is not something any of you should be involved in, and for how much you are involved already, I apologize. I will handle this myself, when I am strong enough.”“How?” Beau asked, before she even realized she was doing it.Caleb looked at her, and an acknowledgement of her greater understanding of the situation passed between them. After a moment, he said, “That is not your concern.”Fjord snorted, and Jester frowned. “I don’t know if that’s really your choice to make, Caleb,” Molly said.Beau meets a scary-hot lady at a party.Caleb studiously avoids a couple panic attacks.Together, Caleb and Beau tie up some loose ends, probably.





	Anchors and Other Weights

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Critical Role Round Robin organized by bboiseaux on tumblr, posted very late. I ended up moving to a different continent between editing and posting this. You can find this team's other fics under any of the co-authors listed above.

The guy was a grade-A dick, no doubt about it. A second ago he was making it clear that Beau and the entire Cobalt Soul were beneath his notice, and here he was trying to intimidate her into doing him a favor.

Good thing Beau wasn’t actually here on behalf of the Soul, or she might actually have to follow up on his request. In reality, Beau was only at this party for the group’s sake. They needed to steal some intel from the personal quarters of the party’s host, an arms manufacturer up to his neck in political schemes. Beau’s official position within the Cobalt Soul had secured her an invite. Once in, she had snuck the others in through a side door. Now she just needed to play nice until Jester let her know they were in the clear, in case she needed to provide a distraction for their exit.

Yasha was here too. No one liked leaving any party member alone in a nest of vipers like this one, and so Beau had suggested Yasha to keep her company. Fjord had agreed that Yasha wasn’t the most adept at stealth, and so maybe should stay behind. Stealth had nothing to do with why Beau had requested her, but she kept her mouth shut.

The guy was leaning into Beau, looking anxious in a way that could turn to violence if she said no the wrong way. His eyes were darting back and forth between Beau’s, and he licked his lips.

Before Beau could decide how to play this, Yasha loomed over the table. Yasha’s cover at this party was somewhere between exotic show-and-tell piece from Xhorhas and hired bodyguard.

“Master Synecra does not need your threats, small man,” Yasha said, in a voice that was slower and deeper than her normal one, with an accent that made Beau’s stomach tingle. Beau, in character, patted Yasha’s arm soothingly.

“Hey, no need for that, big gal. We’re just having a bit of business talk between friends. I’m sure he meant nothing of the sort, right, Gustav?”

The man, Lieutenant Gustav Humbert, jerked backwards. He glanced between the two of them—the hulking foreign barbarian and the lithe, smirking warrior-monk—and looked ready to make another mistake, so Beau cut him off.

“Is he always like this?” Beau asked to the woman sitting next to Humbert. She had come with him to the party but Beau could tell she wasn’t Humbert’s sweetheart or anything. She was human, short and a bit stocky, but she held herself with impressive confidence and poise. She was dressed modestly, with strawberry-blond hair pulled back and blue-green eyes. Frankly, she was kind of hot. She was younger than Humbert but older than Beau, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, and she seemed perfectly in control of herself. Beau had always had a thing for competent women.

The woman, unfortunately, wasn’t biting. She smiled obligingly at Beau, but said nothing. Instead, Humbert jumped back in, apparently having made up his mind.

“Your rudeness is noted,” he said, “and I will unfortunately have to inform your masters of it when next I see them.” Beau rolled her eyes. “ _ And _ your negligence in informing them of this valuable opportunity,” he continued, and made to stand up.

“Hold your horses, Lieutenant,” Beau said. She clapped a hand on top of his to keep him at the table. “You never heard of bargaining? That was just my tough opener, friend. Sit down, sit down,” she gestured to him. She stared him in the eyes a long moment, humming and pursing her lips. “I’ll tell ‘em,” she said.

He looked taken off guard. “You—will?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Beau would do nothing of the sort. Ideally, the Soul wouldn’t even know she was here tonight. “On one condition.” She turned her gaze to the woman. “I get a dance with your companion here. Is that alright with you, ma’am?”

Yasha coughed to cover up a snort. The woman’s smirk grew broader, but not warmer. Humbert spluttered. “What kind of—unprofessional—“

“After all, Lieutenant, this is a party,” Beau grinned. She stood and offered the woman her hand. “Ma’am? Would you care to dance?”

Slowly, deliberately, the woman took her hand. Her gaze as she did so was cool, assessing, and like she didn’t entirely like what she found. A frisson ran down Beau’s spine, and her heart went  _ Whump _ .

“You’ll owe me for this, Gustav,” she said, without looking away from Beau. Her voice was warm, smoky, and accented, and sounded like all of Beau’s worst decisions. She suddenly found her palms were sweaty where she gripped the woman’s hand, and she had to focus on not tripping as she escorted the woman out to the dance floor. To distract herself she sought out Yasha over the woman’s shoulder. Beau winked at her. Yasha’s mouth twisted to hide her grin.

The music wasn’t challenging. It was all waltzes and gavottes, stuff Beau had been practicing since she was a little kid, since long before the monks started training her in agility and acrobatics. The waltz that started up as they took the floor took very little of Beau’s concentration, which was unfortunate because there were at least two other things Beau was trying hard not to think about.

There was Yasha, whirling past them over the woman’s shoulder with every rotation. She was watching them, along with the boor Humbert. Beau was pretty good at squashing thoughts of Yasha these days, but they were popping up with more and more frequency. Yasha watching her dance. Yasha watching her all evening, as Beau put on her show for these shallow assholes. She had based a lot of her performance on the bullshit Molly pulled sometimes. She hoped Yasha had gotten a kick out of it.

On the next loop, Yasha’s eyes were less on Beau and more on the shorter woman standing inches from Beau’s front. And that was the other thing; this woman. God, Beau had a type. Well, she had an overarching type, and then the had sub-types. The overarching type was “super-competent badass women.” Yasha was in a new sub-type, “competent women who might actually be good for you.” It was an exciting new frontier for Beau, and one she thought  _ maybe _ , just maybe, Yasha would be willing to explore with her.

And then there was this woman, who was the oldest sub-type Beau had: “hyper-competent older women who could squash you under their boot and who, whether they know about your crush or not, are gonna emotionally  _ destroy _ you.” It was, as always, a terrifying and enticing thought. The woman’s perfume was strong and heady, and even their whirling couldn’t disperse the scent for long.

Beau caught herself leaning in, and mentally shook herself. She cleared her throat, just enough to sound gravely but not like she was choking up. Near the woman’s ear, she said, “You dance well, even in all those heavy skirts.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, and at the sound of her husky voice, Beau had to consciously straighten her spine to keep from swooning. “You dance well, even in those dirty boots.”

Oh. Oops. Yeah, most people here probably had something other than dirty road boots to wear to a fancy party. Most people here probably hadn’t cobbled together their plan for attending this morning.

“You aren’t very good at playing the diplomat. Tell me, why did the Soul really send you?”

Beau flinched, but the jig wasn’t up yet. She ducked her head, both to look sheepish and to give herself a second to think.

“Is it your big friend there?” The woman continues.

Beau leapt on it. To the woman, she smiled sheepishly. “I’m the only one she’ll really listen to. I know I’m not great at the whole—’being nice to self-important assholes’ thing—but they wanted to show off our new intel source, and Yasha doesn’t play so nice for the other monks.”

Beau tried not to feel uncomfy about encouraging shitty stereotypes of Xhorhasians, but she knew that these folks would probably be thinking it anyway. And Yasha seemed completely unbothered by the part she had to play tonight—even excited, a little bit, to terrify some rich pricks.

“Although diplomacy is not your strong suit, you are not without charm. I can see you being a compelling leader to those of less sophisticated manners.”

Beau tried not to flinch at the woman’s words. Instead, she quickly changed the subject.

“And you? Why are you here? I couldn’t help noticing that you don’t seem too enamored with Lieutenant Humphrey over there.”

The woman smiled, cold and dry, again. “You’re correct, it’s not for his company, certainly. I am here to listen and to be seen.”

Beau raised her eyebrows. “If you’re here to be seen, that means either no one knows who you are, or everyone does.”

The woman’s smile this time held a little bit more genuine humor. “Correct. I am a member of the Soltryce Academy. My presence here conveys our organization’s favor towards Lieutenant Humbert and his plans for the upcoming Xhorhasian assault.”

In character, Beau whistled. Out of character, Beau was trying to remember anything she had heard about Humbert’s actual position within the military. She couldn’t tell whether she had actually heard his name before tonight or not.

“You must be pretty powerful, then. We’ve grown so close—“ with a grin, Beau indicated the scant inches between their bodies—“and yet I don’t even know your name.”

The woman smiled again. Was that flirtation creeping in this time, or was Beau projecting? “I am Deputy Archmage Zuberstein, but you may call me Astrid.”

_ Oh. _

Her mind raced, first placing the name then running through the implications. She tried to keep her face neutral, or at least keep her jaw from hitting the floor. But one thought dominated. 

_ Where’s Caleb? _

Her eyes left her dance partner’s gaze in favor of scanning the crowd of dancers. Caleb hadn’t been too keen on attending the party, and at this point, she really hoped that he and Nott had just opted to stay outside. She struggled to reclaim her composure, and tried to play off her lapse as social ineptitude. Which wasn’t hard to fake. “That’s a fancy title. Sorry, I’m not really used to these kinds of gigs. I’m Beau.”

“Beau… Short for…?”

“Beauregard,” she answered, and immediately kicked herself. In that moment she couldn’t have remembered her cover name if she tried.

Astrid gave no indication she had noticed anything, but Beau was getting the sense that that didn’t mean much with this woman. Instead, Astrid continued to lead them along in the dance, taking the lead without Beau noticing. “A lovely name,” Astrid remarked, looking up at Beau through her lashes.

Oh, right. Flirting.

For a second, Beau just let the two of them dance, feeling the swell of the music filling the air and gentle, posh laughter tinkle around them. Beau tried to take the moment to get her thoughts back in line. On the one hand, Astrid was hot. On the other hand, Beau was now terrified of her, or maybe terrified of her on behalf of other people, which was a new thing. And on the third hand, part of Beau was convinced she was betraying Caleb, but whether because she was flirting with his childhood sweetheart, or because she was attracted to his possible-enemy, she really couldn’t tell. It was only when she saw a man with dark, slicked back hair, brown skin, and yellow eyes, that she was jolted out of her introspection and reminded of what she was here for and how badly the situation could go wrong.

Fjord, disguised with the tall, dark, and handsome facade, gave her a pointed look from over the head of a disguised Jester with blonde hair and a pale complexion. She gave Beau a wink before telling Fjord to dip her, which he did with a snort.

When Beau finally brought her attention back to Astrid, the woman was regarding her with a deep stare. “You seem distracted, Beau. Something else on your mind?”

_ Yes,  _ she answered in her head.  _ There’s Fjord and Jester, then Caleb’s somewhere around here, and fuck, Yasha’s still glancing at me every other second –.  _

“No,” Beau told her. “No, I just spotted one of my colleagues in the distance. Let’s go back to before. So you’re with the Soltryce, huh? That’s pretty impressive.”

“I suppose some would say so, yes. Though, being an Expositor of the Cobalt Soul is no small feat, either.” Beau nearly laughed at this. She could just imagine the horrified look on Dairon’s face at someone referring to her as an Expositor.

Beau took the compliment in stride, trying to find her footing in their conversation. “Maybe, but I’ve heard a lot of good things coming from the Academy. I hope it’s all true, too. I have a friend that’s really keen on attending.”

Astrid raised a brow at her with sudden interest, and Beau knew that she had found a way in.

So when the other woman didn’t speak, Beau simply went on, “Yeah, he’s pretty talented with magic, but he’s been wanting to lock down his skills. He wants to find his full potential and all.”

“I see,” is all Astrid said at first. Then she added, “The Academy is always looking for new recruits. Perhaps you can bring your friend to us in the next few days and we can have a small assessment.”

Beau knew that Fjord probably wasn’t going to be too happy with her using him as bait for this kind of information, but whatever, he could deal. All she needed was to figure out like two more things and then they could reconvene. And given who she was getting this information from, she needed to work fast.

“Sure, I think he’d be interested. We were actually able to meet another person from the Academy. I believe he called himself Master Trent Ikithon?” Beau threw the inquiry into the conversation easily, but saying his name felt like something awful had just crawled into her mouth and died. Caleb’s history with the man in question did not leave room for anything but disgust for him.

And the gnawing feeling in her gut only sunk deeper when she saw the way Astrid’s eyes seemed to light up upon hearing his name. “Ah, yes, Master Ikithon is my superior. I studied beneath him for many years. Your friend is wise if he seeks out his teachings. If you would like to speak to him, he is no doubt on his way here.”

They continued to glide along the floor, but Beau’s body had gone numb. She was sure that her expression had returned to being wide-eyed and gaping, but at that moment, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. 

_ He’s coming here. Caleb’s here.  _ Yasha’s _ here,  _ she told herself mentally, remembering how horribly the last conversation between Yasha and Ikithon had gone. 

Beau swallowed thickly and cleared her throat, but the only words that came to her were a pathetic, “That’s alright, no need to bother him.”

Thankfully, the song ended at just that moment, and Beau had to stop herself from physically slouching in relief. Astrid was beautiful, charismatic, and clever, which only made her all the more dangerous. When their hands finally left each other, Beau felt as if she had just taken a step back from a very steep cliff. 

“It was a pleasure, Beauregard, however I must return to my companion before he starts bickering with the other officials,” Astrid said with a smile. She did not hesitate when she leaned forward and her lips brushed Beau’s cheeks, instantly searing the area with a heavy blush. “I look forward to seeing you again if you and your friend make it to the Academy.”

And with that, the woman walked away to meet up with the Lieutenant. 

It took a few moments for Beau to come back to herself after that, but when she did, she could feel the stare of blue and purple eyes against the back of her head. It didn’t take long for Yasha to reach her side and Beau turned to look at her.

Yasha asked in a somewhat hushed tone, “What did you find out?”

Beau stared at her and shook her head, “We have to go.”  


Yasha didn’t question her, and for that Beau was grateful because she didn’t think she would be able to explain without telling Caleb’s secret. She looked at her a second instead, and nodded after she found what she wanted on her face, “Okay, if you think we need to. I’ll get Molly and Jester and meet you outside.” She turned the way that Astrid had gone and Beau panicked. 

She grabbed her arm, looking up at her quickly, spike of panic making her breath quicken as she stood up, not dropping her hand, “Wait! I think they’re actually this way. We should go and... find them together. Don’t want to get seperated, do we?” 

Yasha glanced at the rest of the room, looking visibly uncomfortable to be reminded of how many people surrounded her at this place, and returned her eyes back to Beau, “No. I don’t.” 

Beau licked her lips, looking around for a path that could take them both as far from Astrid as possible while hopefully leading to some glimpse of the others, “You seen Nott and Caleb around at all, or did they stay out? Because, you know, that would make this a lot easier if we didn’t have to smuggle Nott out of this place, know what I’m saying?” the lie was probably mean, but it was better than asking ‘Hey, Yasha, ya know if Caleb’s around so I can help him avoid multiple people who are part of his fucked up brainwashed parent murdering past?’ That and, it was very likely they would have to smuggle the goblin out of the fancy party, if she wasn’t able to cast that spell that made her look like a halfling. 

Yasha shook her head, “Last I saw them, they were out in the garden. I think Nott was picking the flower bushes.” 

That was good. Beau knew that was good. Everything was alright so far. Caleb was safe, outside the building, with Nott probably sticking flowers in his hair as they waited. She just had to get everyone else out immediately, meet up with them, and leave the party behind before Trent saw any of them or Astrid came around again. “Alright, let’s go look then!” 

Beau pulled Yasha along, by the grace of the bigger woman allowing it, and made her way between the throngs of people in the room. She caught sight of blonde to the side of the room, and quickly headed towards it, seeing Jester come fast into focus, talking to someone animatedly.

The man listening to Jester when Beau found her had his head tilted dramatically to one side, smile bright and genuine to anyone who wasn’t looking too closely at his expression. Beau could tell though it was a brittle grin, barely holding back the manic look in his eye as he listened to her talk up the Traveler. 

Beauregard cleared her throat loudly as she left Yasha a few feet behind her, grabbing Jester’s shoulder, “Sorry if my friend was bothering you.” 

The man’s head straightened, smile sharp and dangerous as he directed his bright emerald gaze onto her, “It’s no issue. It’s nice sometimes, to learn of others’...choices.” his voice was carefully controlled, practiced and held fake warmth, with the same accented speech as Astrid that set her even more on edge then she had been before. Oh shit, is that-

Jester nodded, looking pleased, “Yes! His name is Eodwulf, he’s so nice! When he saw me drawing, he asked who it was for, and was so very interested to know about the Traveler.” she pulled Beau closer so she could whisper in her ear, “I think he’s going to start praying to him! He’s kinda weird, but I think the Traveler will like him okay.”

Shit. Shit fucking crap. Now she had to hurry and get Jester as far from these people as possible too, before Eodwulf decided to murder her for the offense of worshipping a harmless god for no other reason then bullshit Empire fuckery. 

Eodwulf’s eyes were narrowed when Beau looked back at him, watching them and Yasha, and he smiled, face returning to the fake relaxed look when he noticed her attention, “She’s a very interesting creature. I look forward to seeing her again, should our paths cross after tonight,” he said, the threat clear to Beauregard even if there was no hint of it in his tone. 

“Yeah, sorry to cut your talk short. I gotta get these two home before, Uh, late.” Beau said haltingly, pulling Jester behind her with Yasha as she backed off, itching so hard to fight but knowing it wasn’t the time. Not right there. 

He nodded, face looking so incredibly kickable, and smiled, “Have a good night.” he said, as he walked past them back to the crowd. 

Beau watched his back until she couldn’t see him, before she ran for the exit, both arms in a hard grip as she led them out the door, taking a sharp turn into the garden. She ignored the two women’s questions when they asked, only stopping or letting them go once she had found where the other two had hidden themselves. 

Nott looked up at her from her place sitting on a tree root, fingers twined in Caleb’s flowering hair as she paused in adding in a rose to the veritable bouquet already on his head. Someone was going to be so pissed off later when the gardener or whoever saw the plants she had stolen. Beauregard didn’t give a shit about that though. 

She knelt down in front of her, ignoring whatever looks she was getting from Jester and Yasha behind, “Send a message to Fjord and Molly right now. We need to leave immediately, and we can’t risk any of them seeing me or any of us by going back inside to find them ourselves.” 

“Why is that, Beauregard?” Caleb asked, rightly sounding wary, while Nott removed her hands from his head to grab her wire. 

Beau bit her lip, deciding fuck it because honesty would save her time anyway, “Trent is coming, I danced with Astrid, and Jester told Eodwulf about the Traveler before I pulled her out. Astrid is really hot, by the way, really my type if it wasn’t for...all that shit.” 

Caleb had frozen, eyes millions of miles away, and Nott squeaked into the message before she could control herself and send a proper message to hopefully both of the guys. She stowed the wire away when she was done and started whispering to Caleb too low for Beau to make out, comforting him and trying to bring him back while she turned to the two standing and staring at all three of them. 

“I’ll explain this shit when everyone is here if I can. Just...wait for Fjord and Molly to meet up with us.” She said. 

Jester’s concern was obvious as she looked at Nott, sitting in Caleb’s lap as they spoke in hushed tones, and back at Beau, “Alright. But you better tell us! I’ve got a zone of truth all ready and everything if you lie about whatever is making you all so weee--ird.” 

The raw, gnawing panic in her gut only subsided when Yasha nudged her, pointing to two figures across the way. “Fjord and Molly.”

“You’re sure?” They were only shapes to her, only moving shadows among still ones. Damn these moonless nights. “Fjord’s disguised as a human, uh, dark hair and skin, darker than mine and Molly--shit, what does he look like tonight?”

“Entertainment,” Jester supplied with a stifled laugh, the sound not quite undoing the tension that had been growing among them. She turned her back to the small group, began to weave her way along the paths. “I’ll go get them.”

Beau glanced to Yasha, still and quiet beside her, mismatched eyes on the doors leading from the house. She had their backs, which only left… She crouched down by Nott and Caleb, her voice low. “Caleb. Talk to me.”

“We have to go why are we still here we have to go, now, before they--” He sucked in a breath, let it out slow and met Beau’s eyes

in the darkness. “How many of you did they mark?”

“They made me, for sure. Yasha, too, she was with me inside the whole time. They definitely know Jester’s disguise. Fjord and Molly should be safe.” She bit her lip, her mind backtracking through the conversation. “How likely are they to pursue false worship?”

Caleb reached up, patting Nott’s hands gently where they toyed with the flowers in his hair. “False worship should be beneath them. Beauregard, you are--you are certain? It is them?”

“As much as I can be, yeah. Deputy Archmage Zuberstein of the Soltryce Academy, but she said to call her Astrid. Trained under the wing of Trent Ikithon. The other one, Eodwulf, maybe I’m wrong but…” But the look in his eyes, the  _ knowing _ as he’d assessed her, the moment of cool calculation from both of them. He knew that she wasn’t intercepting Jester casually. She knew that something about her had drawn his further scrutiny. She could deal with it later. “But do we really want to take that chance?”

“Not if Ikithon is on his way.” Caleb seemed to have fully snapped out of his panic now, standing, one hand reaching up to clutch the necklace he wore. The one that prevented him from being found, if Beau was remembering right. 

Jester brought Molly and Fjord back to the group, the latter dropping his disguise as he approached. Molly moved to Yasha on instinct, his tail lashing behind him. “What, did you finish the fight before we even got here?”

“We’re not fighting. Not here, and not against what we’re facing. Let’s go.” She’d sounded the alarm on this one, she’d take the lead in getting them out. The group of them moved through the gardens under cover of darkness, keeping as silent as possible until they were well away from the party.

-

The inn didn’t offer large bedrooms, really only comfortable for two, maybe three people, but this wasn’t a conversation for the common room. Nott inspected the space closely as Caleb laid his silver thread across the door and windows, the others crowding in, finding almost comfortable positions among the two beds and the minimal floor space.

Finally, with their security assured, eyes turned to Beau. Jester’s hands worked, her mouth twisting to form the words of the spell. “Jester, you don’t have to do that.” Beau’s hand over hers fizzled the spell out, and the tiefling looked at her with raised eyebrows. “It’s… Look, we’re a team, right? We’ve been through hell for each other, almost literally?”

“We’re somethin’,” Fjord agreed from his place leaned against the door, his arms crossed. “I dunno if ‘team’ is a strong enough word, after what you all did for us back in Shady Creek, but… I think we trust each other.” The tension that had been building in him, raising his shoulders up as Jester started to cast her spell, seemed to ease.

“As long as no one has anything relevant to the situation to hide, I think we’re okay,” Molly spoke up, scooting over on the bed to make space as Caleb took a seat. He reached up, plucking one of the flowers tucked into ginger hair and twirling it in his fingers. “Let’s lay our cards on the table, hm?”

Nott squished in close to Caleb on his other side, her hand gentle on his knee. “It’s okay, Caleb.”

He inhaled and exhaled unsteadily, looking at each person in the group for a lingering moment. His eyes landed on Fjord, last. “I will start at the beginning. That academy you wished to attend, Fjord, to learn more about your magic. The Soltryce Academy. I… was a student there.”

Beau had heard this tragedy before, didn’t need to relive Caleb’s monotonous telling of his life again. She made note of how he edited it, though, and studied the room, watching each person as the story unfolded. He clearly tried to tell the minimum he could: he was a student, Astrid and Eodwulf had been his classmates, and they were singled out for special tutelage by Ikithon. They were trained to serve the Empire above all, to do the Empire’s dirty work. The fire, Caleb described only as a ‘test,’ a test which he failed and which left him psychologically incapacitated for many years. Astrid and Eodwulf did not fail, and might well think Caleb dead. Certainly, seeing him walking around, knowing what he knows, would worry them. 

Jester was clearly unsatisfied, and might have pried further had it not been for Fjord’s somber presence right beside her. Fjord was watching Caleb intently, trying to read between the lines, and clearly coming to the conclusion that what more there was to say, he didn’t necessarily want to know. Yasha stood between the two beds, perched precariously on the shoddy table that separated them. Her gaze was on the ground, her mouth curled into a thoughtful (and cute, the traitorous part of Beau’s mind that always noticed these things about Yasha supplied) frown. Molly watched Caleb maybe more intently than Fjord, but Beau could tell his mind was more on Caleb’s emotional state and less what was coming out of his mouth. Nott was curled tight against Caleb, half-shielding him, with her hand on his knee and her teeth bared at the rest of the group, as if daring them to upset Caleb further.

Caleb looked up finally, and assessed the mood of the group. “I do not recommend we make this a head-on fight,” he said. “We would not win it.” He took a slow breath, pushing a hand through his hair, sending flowers spilling onto the bed. “This is not something any of you should be involved in, and for how much you are involved already, I apologize. I will handle this myself, when I am strong enough.”

“How?” Beau asked, before she even realized she was doing it.

Caleb looked at her, and an acknowledgement of her greater understanding of the situation passed between them. After a moment, he said, “That is not your concern.”

Fjord snorted, and Jester frowned. “I don’t know if that’s really your choice to make, Caleb,” Molly said.

Caleb pursed his lips, looked ready to shut the conversation down. Beau wasn’t sure of any move she could make that wouldn’t just make it worse. Fjord was clearly agonizing over the same dilemma, Jester was frowning at the whole situation, and Nott was bracing herself to get between Caleb and the others.

Then a quiet voice interrupted them all. “No.”

Yasha was still looking at her feet, and there was a lot going on behind her eyes.

“No,” she said again, as they all turned to her. Despite her earlier thought of how much Yasha stood out in a crowd, Beau did have to admit that when she wanted to, when she was allowed to, the other woman could go still and quiet enough to blend almost completely into the background. “You… You cannot…” Her voice faltered, her tone softening, becoming almost a whistle, almost a song. Caleb looked at her askance.

“Hey! No secret languages!” Jester accused, looking between the two of them. “We said we’d tell the truth, that means doing it in Common so we all understand.”

Yasha shrugged, her hand reaching out, finding Molly’s and locking together. “I don’t know if the phrase exists in Common, but… something like…” She looked to Caleb thoughtfully, and said haltingly, “Just because you fed the dog, you cannot—“

She fumbled, and Caleb suggested, “’Take responsibility for—‘”

Yasha nodded, “Take responsibility for—its shits?”

Molly burst out laughing, and Jester giggled. “It sounds better in Celestial,” Yasha frowned.

Despite himself, Caleb’s mouth twitched as well. “It is—a caution not to take responsibility for something for which one is only partially responsible, or to consider who between you and the negative effect had the chance to change or influence the outcome.”

“They sound like wise people,” Molly said.

“But that does not mean one can ignore the role one did play, or—or basic cause and effect,” Caleb said.

“Let’s leave questions of cause and effect for another day,” Fjord cut off the conversation, shifting his weight against the door. “Thank you, Caleb, for sharing with us, but let’s shift our focus to what we do next. We have the information we came to the party to get. We don’t have any reason to stay in town once we drop it off. Do we cut and run, or do we try to fight?”

The tension in the room was palpable, all eyes on Caleb. Beau looked to Fjord instead. “We run,” she said. “They don’t know about you or Molly. They don’t know Caleb was there. Who knows how much they know about me.” Caleb was nodding, and clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight. “But we have some allies that can help us disappear, that can lie for us and let us get away. The Cobalt Soul won’t even be lying when they say that they never sent me there. We get out of town, we lay low for a while as far away from here as we can get, and we hope for the best. Soltryce is backing up the army on an upcoming assault on Xhorhas, if we head in the opposite direction, they may be too wrapped up in it all to follow us. They might even forget about us by the time it’s done.”

“That’s a lot of maybe…” Molly spoke up, his eyes narrowed. “And letting a lot of really bad people just walk away.”

“You want to go charging into battle with them?”

He raised hands, shaking his head quickly. “Gods, no. I want to run the hell away from that  _ entire _ mess. But… If we stand a chance of stopping them…”

“You don’t.” Caleb’s confidence ended that line of thought, his fingers snapping, Frumpkin appearing in his lap. The fey cat curled up immediately, began working his paws in Caleb’s thighs and purring. “Beauregard is right. We finish the job and we run. Mollymauk and Fjord deliver the information and collect the payment first thing in the morning, while the rest of us pack. We leave as soon as they return. Before anyone can come to... conclusions.”

No one has to ask what sort of conclusions the people from Caleb’s past might come to. The danger was clear enough.

After a moment, Fjord cleared his throat, pushing off the door and opening it behind him. “We can drop off the intel tonight, our contact should still be up. Molly, you’re with me?”

“‘Til the bitter end. Or the lager end.” He gently patted Caleb’s cheek as he stood, face serious. “We’ll be back soon.” Out the door with Fjord, leaving the rest of them to gather their things and prepare to leave town.

Beau looked to Jester as the other three left, her usual roommate unusually quiet. “What’s on your mind, Jes’?”

“That man… Eodwulf…” She bit her lip, her hands stilling in the act of loading her haversack. “He asked me how my traveling companions had been since we were reunited. Since the seven of us were brought back together. How would he know any of that?”

Cold fear seized into Beau’s chest, her eyes darting around the room as if expecting them to emerge from the shadows. “I don’t know, but it’s another reason to hurry the hell away from here.”

-

No one slept well that night. Molly and Fjord returned an hour and a half later, payment in hand, but Caleb said it would look too suspicious to disappear in the middle of the night, and so they agreed to stay. To sleep, theoretically.

Everyone was restless as they bedded down. Yasha and Jester huddled around Frumpkin, who could sense the tension in the room enough to put up with their crowding. Nott huddled near Caleb, who sat against the wall looking deceptively calm, except for the way his eyes twitched with rapid thought. Beau shared a look with Fjord, then Molly. The three of them, for want of anything better to do, double- and triple-prepared for their departure the next morning.

Hours later, Beau lurched awake from a fitful sleep. She nearly swore in frustration, but caught herself before she could wake the others. As she sat there, mastering her annoyance, she noticed what had woken her. 

A shape, humanoid, silhouetted against the window. Moving through them. Beau tensed up immediately. Had Caleb’s alarm--?

She glanced at Caleb’s bedroll-- empty. She glanced back at the figure. Oh. Of course. Outside of a blind panic, it was clearly Caleb. Restless, probably, like she was. 

But as he moved towards the door, Beau noticed that he was wearing his coat. His boots were in his hand, his books in their holsters. He didn’t have his pack, though.

As he carefully crossed the line of his wire and opened the door, Beau got up to follow him. She grabbed her own boots, and stepped quietly in her bare feet.

“Caleb,” she hissed as soon as she had closed the door behind her. He froze.

“Where are you going?” she continued in a whisper.

“Oh! Nowhere,” he said in that false-casual tone what meant that absolutely he was lying.

“Caleb,” Beau said, now wary. “What are you doing?”

“Just going for a walk, Beauregard.”

Beau ignored him. “You’re going to find Astrid. Or Trent, or someone,” she said with growing certainty. “Caleb, what do you think you can do to them? You’re the one who said we can’t fight them.”

“I’m not doing anythi—“

“ _ Caleb _ ,” Beau said harshly.

“I’m—I’m not going to fight them,” he corrected.

“Then what..?”

“I just—I must make sure we are safe. There is something only I can do.”

“Alone?”

“Alone. If you all come with me, then that is not keeping you safe, ja?”

“ _ Caleb _ ,” Beau said, hurt now. “You aren’t going to—“

He waited for her to finish her sentence.

“—turn yourself in, or something?” She finished lamely.

He flinched at that. “ _ No _ . No. I am just—I will make sure they do not tell anyone about seeing you all tonight. I think I can—make them forget entirely.”

Beau stopped. Considered. Took a breath, and nodded. “Ok. You’ll need to… get close to them?”

Caleb nodded stiffly.

“Then I’ll help,” Beau said.

“Beauregard—“

“Nope, not your choice, I’m coming with. I’m way quieter than you, I can help you find where they’re sleeping. And if I get caught, at least the Soul will probably bail me out.”

Caleb seemed to weigh this, to weigh her potential help and the risk to her against the difficulty it would take to get her to stay behind. Beau grinned wickedly at him.

At last, he nodded. “Fine. You may come.”

Beau jogged to catch up. “We’re going back to the manor house?”

He nodded. “Astrid and Eodwulf at least should be guests there.”

Beau noted the way he said those names, the syllables sounding more comfortable on his practiced, accented tongue, but his throat almost unwilling to let the sounds out. She didn’t comment on it.

In fact, they made their way across town mostly in silence. Beau watched Caleb, and couldn’t help but wonder what she wasn’t seeing, if someone who was better at people would know to keep him from doing something so stupid.

Caleb watched his feet, his mind reeling. He muttered to himself, but so lowly that Beau couldn’t tell whether the strange words were Zemnian or arcane incantations.

Before long, the manor loomed above them.  _ Loom  _ isn’t a word that Beau would have used earlier in the day, but whether because of the night or because she knew what (who) was inside, it now looked infinitely more menacing.

Caleb proceeded determinedly to the back side of the house. There were two guards at the front gate, but in this part of town, no one expected trouble. Beau watched as he marched up to the wall, muttered to himself and pulled something very small from his spell component pouch, and touched the back of his hand. Then, without a backward glance, he leapt into the air. Easily, he cleared the ten-foot stone wall and the two feet of iron spikes on top of it. Beau yelped, and slammed a hand over her mouth to suppress it.

There was a rustle, a thud, and a small grunt from the other side. After a moment of silence and silent panic on Beau’s part, she crept close to the wall.

“ _ Caleb, _ ” she hissed. No response. Again, louder. “ _ Caleb!” _

After a moment, “…Ow.” Beau sighed in relief.

“Stop being a moron and help me over,” she said.

“But I can’t—“ Before he could finish, Beau had a rope out of her bag and was tossing it over the wall.

“Beauregard, I am not strong—“

“Shut up and help me loop it around the spike.”

It took a minute fiddling for them to lasso one of the iron spikes, and for Beau to haul herself up one side and neatly backflip to the ground on the other. When she arrived, Caleb had clearly lost some of his single-mindedness. He was fiddling with his coat sleeves as she freed the rope and tucked it away, and looking at her with worry by the time she turned to him.

Beau wasn’t interested in his second thoughts. “Now what?”

Caleb looked to the high walls of the manor itself. “Now, we must find their rooms.”

Beau nodded. “Guestrooms will be on the second floor. The west wing is probably for family, so guests will probably be above the ballroom in the east wing. Either we go in through the veranda off the ballroom, and we have to make our way upstairs from the inside, or we find a second story balcony in the east wing and risk sneaking through someone’s bedroom. Unless, of course, it’s Astrid or Eodwulf’s bedroom, in which case, y’know, score.”

Caleb stared at her. “You are very knowledgeable of this.”

Beau shrugged. “I’ve done a lot of taboo shit in a lot of rich people’s houses.”

“I think, balcony. Better to spend as little time inside as possible.”

“Sounds good.”

They found a balcony on the end of the east wing of the house. Caleb cast that jumping spell again on Beau, and they both huffed and puffed for a few minutes as Caleb tried to climb Beau’s rope and Beau tried to haul him further up.

The French doors on the balcony were latched, but before Caleb could resort to magic again, Beau had pulled out her belt knife and lifted the simple catch. Caleb, slightly grudgingly, expressed his thanks. Then, the difficult part. Caleb cast invisibility on them both, then fumbled around to find her invisible ear and whisper, “This is concentration so if I must do something else you will be visible again. Just a heads up.”

Beau nodded, realized he couldn’t see her, and hissed back, “Okay.”

They crept through the room. There was someone asleep in the bed, but the dark hair told them it was neither Eodwulf nor Astrid.

In the hallway, they came to a stop. Beau looked at Caleb. “Now what?”

“I have an idea,” Caleb said.

“Then do it.”

“We will no longer be invisible.”

“Goddamnit, Caleb.”

“I agree.”

“Whatever. Do it.”

Caleb did, and they became visible again. However, Caleb immediately began walking with purpose, scanning his head back and forth across the hall.

Beau followed more cautiously, her attention split between watching for danger and watching Caleb.

When they turned a corner, Caleb let out a small sound like he had been punched in the gut. Cautiously, he approached a door. Beau followed. Almost to himself, he explained, “It is the same alarm spell I use.” Beau was glad he wasn’t looking away from the door, because she didn’t know what her face was showing.

With an indrawn breath and a few muttered words, he cast something. Then he reached for the nob. He eased the door open.

There was no sound, no sign of movement. He stepped cautiously into the room.

“ _ Eodwulf _ ,” he choked. It was indeed the green-eyed man who had been talking to Jester, asleep under the blankets. Beau watched from the door, trying to split her attention between Caleb and the hall.

Caleb walked, excruciatingly slowly, toward the bed. His breathing was jerky and carefully controlled. It started to speed up, but Beau suspected he didn’t notice.

Beau glanced at the hallway, then back at him. He hadn’t moved. “ _ Caleb _ ,” she whispered as quietly as she could, then louder when he didn’t react. “ _ Caleb! _ ”

He jumped and glanced at her. She rolled her eyes and made a ‘hurry up’ motion with her hand. Caleb rifled through his bag. He pulled out a scroll, then another. He unfurled one a little to check what it was, and shoved it back in the bag. He opened the other, and fumbled it. The pack clattered to the floor.

The figure in the bed stirred.

Beau panicked. She hopped into the room, closed the door, and ducked into the shadow of a wardrobe. She ushered Caleb toward her, but he didn’t move.

The figure on the bed blinked, lifted its head. Froze, and stared.

Caleb remained stuck in place, clutching the scroll.

“…Caleb?”

The voice was raspy with sleep, small, and afraid.

“—what?”

The voice cracked, and it seemed to crack Caleb’s paralysis as well. He opened the scroll. Read a few words. The figure on the bed started to scramble up. There was a flash of light.

The figure froze.

Slowly, as Beau’s vision began to recover, Caleb began to speak. His voice was a calm, nearly a monotone.

“You did not meet a young woman tonight who talked to you about a forbidden god called the Traveler. You did not meet a monk of the Cobalt Soul, or a Xhorhasian warrior. You had an uneventful night. There is nothing of note to report to Trent Ikithon. You did not see anyone in your room tonight. After this, you will go back to sleep. You did not see Caleb. You know nothing of Caleb’s whereabouts. For all you know, he is dead.”

He finished on a breathy whisper. Beau let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Caleb stood there. The figure lay back on the bed, closed its eyes, and appeared to sleep.

Quietly, oh so quietly, Beau whispered. “…Caleb?”

His shoulders shook with an exhaled breath. After a moment he turned, and exited the room.

He took no time to recoup himself. Beau followed him to the next door over, and watched as he once again cast something before opening the door. This time Beau noticed the strand of silver wire he brushed aside. Carefully but more confidently, he entered the room.

On the bed was the handsome, confident woman Beau had danced with. She found herself distracted from Caleb for the first time that night. She took in the woman’s sleeping face and rumpled hair, and tried to reconcile it with the image of poise and authority she had encountered earlier in the night. She thought of the powerful, manipulative Deputy Archmage of Civil Influence she had met, and tried to reconcile it with Caleb’s stories of a girl, a child, manipulated and abused. She tried to reconcile the beautiful snake-skinned woman and the broken and discarded man in front of her, and the years they had shared so intimately.

Caleb was ready this time. He had the scroll out. Standing over Astrid, he read the words. They were different words than last time. So too was the quality of light that it brought different. A warm amber glow started to build from where Caleb touched her on her forehead. It grew slowly, until it crescendoed with a flash and disappeared, leaving only the after-image on Beau’s eyes.

Surprisingly, Astrid did not wake. She sighed, warm and contented, and Caleb struggled to breathe through a hitching and heaving chest. Beau came up to him and steered him out of the room with one hand on his wrist and the other around his shoulders.

She shut the door, and made sure the wires were roughly back in place. She guided Caleb back to the room they had snuck through, and left him outside while she snuck to the balcony and set up their rope to climb down.

When she came back to Caleb, he had wrangled his out of control breathing into closed-mouth, lightly hitching deep breaths. He wasn’t looking at her, but when she quietly explained that they needed to sneak back through the room, he nodded. He followed her directions well enough, and they made it down into the garden.

At the wall, Beau started to fiddle with her rope to get them over again, but Caleb had returned to himself enough to grow impatient, and distractedly, he cast the jump spell on both of them. They cleared the wall easily.

Only once they were several blocks away from the house did Beau feel like she could finally relax. Caleb’s breathing had returned to normal, but he was still keeping his eyes on the ground.

She didn’t know how to ask, but the curiosity was killing her.

“I thought you said you were gonna modify their memories.”

Caleb’s shoulder jerked at the sound of her voice.

“I did,” he said after a moment.

“But that second time, that was a different spell. You didn’t tell her what to remember.”

“No. Modify Memory is a difficult and rare spell. I only had one scroll, and that one I only bought to study, not to use.”

“So the second one, on Astrid. What was that?”

He muttered something, but Beau didn’t catch it.

“What?”

“I… did to her what was done to me. In the asylum.”

Beau’s mind raced to make sense of that, but he continued before she could.

“That woman, who touched me. I found out what it was she did. Greater Restoration. To remove the false memories.”

Beau’s eyes widened. “And you did that to Astrid?”

He nodded. “I do not know whether I have done something good or something cruel. Regardless, I think she will not be happy in the near future.”

“How does that help us, though?”

He shrugged. “My hope is that she will be too preoccupied to remember to report on the strange monk and the Xhorhasian she met. Regardless, I had only one Modify Memory. It was the best I could do.”

Beau nodded, and the walked in silence a ways longer.

When their inn was nearly in sight once again, Beau spoke again.

“Will she know what you did to her?”

“I do not know. The false memories will not be there. Whether she felt it, while asleep, or remembered it, I cannot say.” Caleb’s spine had slowly straightened over the course of their walk, and his mouth was set in a firm line.

“And if she just doesn’t think about it? Those memories are decades old.” Beau chewed on her lip in deep thought.

Caleb shrugged his defensive, bird-like shrug, and retreated into his scarf. “Then I have done her no harm, and you and Yasha must keep a slightly lower profile for a while. Fair?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The approached the inn, and just outside, Beau put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. He flinched.

“Go to sleep, I’ll stay on watch the rest of the night. I’ll try to delay the others in the morning so you can get a little more shut-eye,” she said.

“Thank you, Beauregard. Although I do not think I will be sleeping too much tonight.” He gave her a tired, earnest smile. Jerkily, awkwardly, Beau reached up her other arm to pull him into a hug, but froze partway there. Caleb, reading her intent, also raised an arm, and with much uncertainty, they pressed their clavicles together in what could loosely be called a hug.

Afterwards, Beau quickly dropped her arms, and Caleb cleared his throat. 

“Thank you, Beauregard, for your help tonight,” he said, looking at her feet.

“Yeah, no problem, Caleb,” she said, looking at his elbow.

Without another word, he went inside.

-

Beau didn’t know how long it took Caleb to fall asleep, but he was still sleeping when she started hearing noises from inside the room. She had spent the night sitting up on the roof outside their window, with the excuse that she liked the fresh air. It was Fjord who had woken up, and Beau jumped back through the window.

“Good, you’re up. You take watch, I need a nap. Molly never came to replace me last night.”

Fjord looked groggy and confused. Understandably, because they hadn’t set a watch last night, since they were in a relatively safe inn. Beau hoped Fjord would be too sleepy to notice that. She moved past him, and flopped down on the floor between Caleb’s curled up form and the rest of the room. She propped her pack to help block some of the light, and threw her cloak over both of them. At long last, with his gentle snores next to her, she dropped off to exhausted sleep.


End file.
